One year ago today, I was discharged from IMC in Murray. I had fruit and cottage cheese for lunch with the most delicious lemonade ever. People bitch about hospital food, but in our current state of evolution, it is delicious, and of course, nutritious.

My mom was sitting on the couch in my room and I remember having never felt better. My health had been in disrepair for a long time and my mental health was even worse. Imagine how happy I was to find out that I was indeed going to live. A very friendly pacific islander wheeled me to my moms car and off we went. I didn’t want to be wheeled out, but I guess wheelchair exits are mandatory. Mom and I went shopping for some new toiletries and I was able to go in with her. I could actually walk around the store with her without feeling like I was going to collapse in giant lump of failure.

A year later I am still fighting the fight and enjoying small victories everyday. I passed my GED with above average scores and I am taking Japanese lessons from my dad. I’m still unemployed but I am applying for jobs everyday.

I couldn’t have got to where I am without the love and support of my family and friends. Whether it was in text or in person, I couldn’t have done it alone. Thank you to everyone and thanks for stopping by.

Today I had a follow up with the heart clinic. Lovey group of people with a singular goal: get you healthy. It’s their master plan if you will. Today revealed my weight was up quite a bit and my breathing was worse. The first thing I thought of was “what the cuss?! we had a master plan!

My diet and exercise have been the same since leaving the hospital in March with the exception of fluid restriction. As I am not retaining fluid, I do not have to ration. Pretty rational.

In fact, if anything, my exercise has become better. Longer distances, less breaks, working up a real sweat. le sigh

I also informed them of my predicament with my insurance coming to an end on Saturday and being out of pills. Plans were made for that and I will still see them on a monthly basis while we wait for medicaid to answer or for me to find a job. I submitted about 15 applications this morning, so I am hoping for a bite out there. Fishing is supposed to be peaceful. Not job fishing (I don’t hunt).

One strange thing happened today that had nothing to do with my health. More to do with my paranoia. A slender man came in to have his defibrillator checked. The same device I denied to be put in. Not that strange considering I was in a heart clinic. The strangeness, he was born on 11/19/1963. 22 years older than I. Maybe this is something all 11/19’ers share. Maybe CGB Spender had something to do with this illness too. Preparing for colonisation. Or maybe I should stop watching X-Files before bed. Mayhaps. Thanks for stopping by.

A little over a fortnight ago I was in the emergency room. I went by myself this time which felt a little strange, but in a good way. Finding comfort in solitude is my new goal.

I had gone in because I was fainting and had chest pains that just became too immense to ignore. You tell anyone in the ER that you are a heart patient and they DO NOT mess around.
Tests ordered:

EKG

Chest X-ray

Full blood panel

Exhocardiogram

and another test that I am dedicating an entire entry to. First time I’ve had this one. Hooray.

As I lay hooked up to multiple machines, I could only talk to myself. ERs are busy places and can be super lonely. While in my own head, I start freaking out over the echocardiogram. What if my ejection fraction went down?What if they found some blockage? Which of course led to, I’m going to die.
I fully believe I am my own worst enemy.

The doctor comes in and orders 1 litre of fluid as I am super dehydrated at this point. He tells me that he called my cardiologist. My heart stopped.

Doc: Are you familiar with the term “ejection fraction”?

adn: Of course. I’ve been a heart patient for almost a year now. I know lots. Quiz me! I tend to get annoyingly joke-y when I feel that death is at my door.

Doc: Do you remember what it was at your last echo?

adn: 30-35%

Doc: Well it’s gone up to 35-40%

He said it so matter-of-fact-ly. That is great news! I am still going up! He tells me he has called my cardiologist to inform him. Now I feel like a total bother. It’s now 2 am and he called my cardiologist to say “all’s well”. Just like those buzzards in Robin Hood. 12 ‘o clock and all’s well!

Dr. Stephen Miller happens to be an amazing cardiologist and looks just like my friends dad and Jeff Conaway put together in some well aged hunk stew. He put me on a heart monitor, again. So now my heart beats are recorded and sent to Skynet for evaluation. I thought it would be super funny to really exert my heart and have the monitor suddenly stop. First thought was coitus, but I have no partner. So I went for an extra long run and when it was over, took the leads off and took a shower. I don’t know of anyone has seen the spike yet or even cares. Regardless, I had a hearty chuckle. Get it? Hearty? Damn I am clever.

Anyway, the whole point of this boring story was to confirm my heart is on the mend. Just in time too. I suppose. Thanks for stopping by.

What can I say anymore? It has been confirmed that I am indeed, the weird kid. This really didn’t come as a shock to me and I would assume didn’t come as a shock to anyone that knows me either. However, in a life full of uncertainty it was a genuine surprise to receive confirmation of…well….anything really. Feel left out? Prepare to have speed increased so you are caught up.

Part of my new life includes nearly weekly blood test. Levels in my metabolic panel change so frequently and my doctors all give a damn that they monitor the hell out of me. I pretend sometimes to be upset by this, but I occasionally enjoy being taken care of. I always turn into a little boy when I am sick that just wants his mom to make him soup and tell him everything will be ok. Well I have been sick for almost a year now, so the attention waxes and wanes from beautiful to annoying. I realise this is my own brain making these determinations, so I will return to the story.

Today I had a blood test to check my kidney function and potassium levels. For some funny reason, potassium and I do not get along. It’s pretty funny because my gangy always used to talk about bananas and potassium. So I assumed I was one of the only kids my age that was watching for that. Side note to that side note, I can only spell bananas by singing the Gwen Stefani song. I get lost in the “na”s so I sing it. jnan found that funny as do I.

Back to the blood…

For as long as I have been getting these tests, I have wanted to ask for a vial of my own blood. Why? Why not? I sit in a chair and am poked until I bleed. What’s my compensation (besides of course the reassurance that I am getting healthy…but that’s neither here nor there)? As I am pricked I stare at this clear plastic cubby full of different coloured tubes. Each tube coded for what test it is with a different additive. Medical science is very fascinating. Today, with my newly discovered courage, I asked the adorable phlebotomist my question. I thought it was reasonable, but I got the strangest look ever. Before she could answer, because I felt a huge “no” coming on, I countered with, “What, will you get in trouble?”
“I don’t think so” she replied, still trying to gauge if I was just screwing with her, “no one has asked before. I don’t see why not, it is your blood”.

With two tubes in her hand she says she will give me the first one. Confused I asked if she didn’t need it. I learned that when running a metabolic panel they need to remove all air from the line so as not to taint the sample. She was just going to throw away my blood. My blood. She reattached the first vial to fill it a little more and gave it to me. It has no additive since it is used only to clear the line. Now I sit here with a 3.0 ml vial of blood filled halfway. To everyone that has heard me recount this story, it has been met with the same facial response as the phlebotomists. I am ok with being weird. I am the kid with a vial of his own blood on his nightstand. What do you think Stephen King has on his nightstand? Think about it. Thanks for stopping by.

Ok, my last post was titled “Manic Thursday”. Why you may ask? Because I honestly thought it was Thursday. In my mania I forgot what day it is. At this point I literally cannot remember what happened on Thursday and Friday. I woke up Saturday and thought it was Thursday. How ridiculous and scary is that? What if I did something amazing? What if I did something horrifying? This time loss can only be a few things.

1: Abduction. Lost time is a common factor among abductees.

2: Tumor. This could also explain my migraines.

3: Everyone is screwing with me and it really is only Saturday morning right now.

I truly believe that all 3 are possible. But I really can’t talk more about days I don’t remember. So on to the second half of my title. Foreshadowing…

I am currently on Google+ and I have downloaded all info from Facebook so I can have it should I decide to delete it. Also, it’s nice to have a local HTML file with my Wall, Friends, and Photos. I was looking through old posts and I found this:Not the Gary Busey part. I left that in for comedic value. The post above it. 25 months before I was diagnosed with heart failure, I said it was broken. I knew in my heart that my heart was broken. Weird, huh? Maybe I should have said “I’m married to a beautiful woman and we live in a cabin in the woods”. That would have been a better prediction. In fact, for 25 months from now (August 2013): “I graduated, got married, moved out of my aunt’s basement, bought a new car, and had a child. Her name is Persephone”. Good? Good. Thanks for stopping by.

It had been a few days since my last post and for that I apologize. The last few days have been strange, good, bad, and busy.

In the last few days I have continued my workouts and I feel pretty good with the exception of my feet. The endorphins are a huge plus when you feel like giving up. I have recorded my longest distance as well as personal records for the 1k and the 1 mile. So that is good.

Thursday of this week I have another appointment with the heart failure clinic. I am starting to dread these appointments. They used to be fun and that is no joke. You may be thinking, how is a doctor visit fun? Especially when you are visiting an entire team of cardiologists that are trying to mend your heart. Well I’ll tell you, it used to be fun.

I would go in and just feel happy to be there. Following my diet, medication, and exercise I have made significant progress. The attaboy’s I got from pretty nurses, doctors, pharmacists, and phlebotomists. It was such a great feeling when they would say, “We don’t typically see failure this young, but we also don’t see progress this great.” How awesome is that? Red AND yellow.

But for the last few visits I have gone in super depressed. I haven’t gotten any bad news, my heart is still getting better, but I feel like I’m stagnating. Like a packet of crisps on a roof. I want to get back to that good feeling again.

Then it hits me, this is my other disease showing itself. I have had a psychologist and a few doctors give a guess that I am bipolar. I am usually extremely happy or extremely depressed. I rarely have days where I am not either hyper or totally anti social. What do I do?

The next step is to find a psychiatrist. Get a full diagnosis of the situation and have them start treatment. I don’t feel like Prozac has been helping too much and as I have said previously, they even doubled the dose. Finding a psychiatrist isn’t the easiest thing in the world. I want a good one but I need one that takes my insurance and is flexible with payments as I am starting school this fall and am still unemployed.

With new challenges ahead of me, I want to be prepared and be able to face them mentally and physically. Until then I have the joy of family and friends to help me. And believe me, they do help. I am just afraid of the day that they can’t. For now, this is my main joy. Emma is my amazing niece that I adore to no end. Seeing her smile and hearing her laugh make me think of nothing else. Thanks to adm and jnan for having such a wonderful daughter and allowing me to be a part of her life. It helps more than they know. Thanks for stopping by.

Today I had my two week checkup with the heart failure team. Things are going well with a few minor complications / adjustments.

Blood test revealed I am dehydrated and my potassium level is on the high side of normal. So they are cutting my evening dose of potassium and halving my evening dose of the diuretics. No additional water retention found and they think I am “bone dry”. They are also upping my dose of Coreg to 37.5 mg twice daily. So the news all around is pretty good. There was a slight increase in weight so I am going to increase my physical activity.

Now as far as the spasms / lightheadedness, the team is convinced it is because of the Coreg. It slows the heart and so I can get blood rushes to the head pretty quick. Will just keep an eye on it and call them if frequency or severity increases. As far as the spasms, it’s because of the meds also. The blood pressure is super low to take strain off my heart so I get cold and get the shivers easily.

All in all, good day. I also got my red dress pin to support research funding for heart disease. I know it says “Go red for women” but heart disease can affect everyone. Heart disease is a number 1 killer of women but as a man, I have this same disease with heart failure. I will wear the pin proudly to support research, funding, and information spreading. Thanks for reading and stopping by.